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“I suppose you’re right. But I hope you know you’re always welcome to share yours with me. I quite enjoy hearing another’s perspective I might not typically hear.”

While Clara believed Miss Sterling and was grateful for her generosity, she could hardly risk her livelihood by sharing anything that might result in her dismissal from Bellthorne.

Still, she didn’t want Miss Sterling to think her ungrateful. “I only find it amusing how all sense of propriety seems to flee during parlor games, that is all.”

Miss Sterling hummed in approval. “It is true. At any rate, aside from the lack of propriety, the next few weeks are sure to be a delight for us all.”

Clara could only imagine. For the next few weeks would certainly not be a delight for her.

Nine

The following morning, after only a few hours of sleep, Clara was up again, working the same rooms and preparing in the same way as the day before—only this time, she had to work around the guests, waiting until they left their chambers so she would remain unseen.

This was something she was more than happy to do. She didn’t want to risk seeing Mr. Cole again.

As she went about her cleaning and replacing bedding with fresh linens along the ground floor, her mind rehearsed what was on the notice for the guests today. Of course after writing so many of them, she had the plan fully memorized by heart.

Today was Tuesday, the twenty-third of December. That meant the party would be out of doors this afternoon on the hunt for Christmas greenery to decorate the house with on the morrow. Clara and a few of the housemaids and footmen had been tasked to finish their chores early today, as they could be called upon if needed to hold some of the greenery gathered.

As such, when one o’clock in the afternoon rolled around, Clara found herself with the rest of the party, awaiting Lady Dalmeer’s instructions in the drawing room. Clara and the rest of the help who’d been requested stood at the back of the room, unnoticed by the guests.

It was the first time Clara had seen Lady Dalmeer. Her ladyship’s blonde hair was stacked so high atop her head, Clara couldn’t fathom how it didn’t fall over like a cake with too many layers.

After flirting with a few men half her age, the countess split the large group into smaller ones, most seeming to settle with four.

“Now, now, do not be shy,” the woman said, rather roughly pulling a young woman toward a red-faced gentleman. “The two of you shall work remarkably well together, I daresay. The chapel will look marvelous after the two of you are finished with it.”

Clara watched on with amusement, only because she didn’t have to be forced into some matchmaking scheme by the eccentric countess. But when Clara’s eyes roved about the room, spotting Mr. Cole singled out by Lady Dalmeer next, Clara’s interest took on a whole other level.

“Now, Mr. Cole, you seemed to enjoy your time with Miss Bowles so greatly last evening, I thought to put the two of you together to decorate the library. What say you?”

“Marvelous,” Mr. Cole said with a smile in Miss Bowles direction.

“Oh, I would be most pleased,” Miss Bowles said with a demure smile.

Clara bit back a scoff. Of course the woman would be all things sweet in front of the countess and the other ladies and gentlemen when she’d been biting and impatient before Clara and the lady’s maid.

Mr. Cole deserved her. Good for Lady Dalmeer recognizing what a perfect pair they were.

An older man cleared his throat from nearby. “My wife and I shall join the both of you in decorating the library. That way, should our daughter need a thing, we shall be right at her side.”

“Of course,” Mr. Cole said at once with benevolence. “I couldn’t wish for a better group to become my partners throughout this competition.”

Well, he was clearly lying. He no doubt wished to be alone with Miss Bowles to have his way with her—as he’d tried to do with Clara.

Twice.

She watched the gentleman stand at the side of the room with his new group, happy and content as he laughed far too heartily at something Miss Bowles said.

He hadn’t seen Clara yet.

No, not yet. He hadn’t looked at her—and he wouldn’t look at her. Not with all these lovely ladies standing about in their winter finery. Velvet bonnets, white muffs, thick gloves.

Clara was only relieved, really. Each time she’d been with Mr. Cole, she’d forgotten to behave like the maid she was. Fortunately, Mr. Cole had seemed unbothered enough to not report her. But she couldn’t afford to behave in such a way again if she wanted to keep her position at Bellthorne.

“Has one of the gentlemen caught your eye?” Harriet whispered beside her.

Clara instantly directed her eyes forward, not realizing until then that she had still been watching Mr. Cole laugh with Miss Bowles.